


Always

by vicaniyun



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 05:56:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vicaniyun/pseuds/vicaniyun
Summary: Junmyeon is the heir of a multi-billion Korean company. His parents ask him to find his other half and get married. Junmyeon has actually already set his eyes on special someone, a cute clumsy giant named Yifan, the owner of his favorite cafe across from his office. There's just one problem: Yifan is completely oblivious about his feelings for him.





	Always

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to the mods for all their hard work and patience, to L for her encouragement and help along the way, and to the prompter as well. I hope you like it!!
> 
> Prompt: #56
> 
> (Note: fic is mainly suitable for teen+ audience, but the rating has been boosted due to some sexual content)

Junmyeon had heard it all time and time again. He was certain that he could actually write an entire book if he wanted to, filling the pages with nothing but the expansive commentary he had been hearing over the years. It was frustrating, and Junmyeon had taught himself to merely block out those speaking to him whenever the topic came up again in conversation.

Being constantly grilled about his currently nonexistent love life could be quite annoying, after all.

Junmyeon knew his parents meant well, but he had long ago grown tired of discussing it with them. At the tender age of twenty-six, Junmyeon was on his final trek to becoming the heir of his parents’ company. It had been in the name of just his father many years ago, before his birth, and his mother had become an addition after she and his father tied the knot. And of course, as new paths and positions opened up before his very eyes, coupled with the constant training and lifestyle changes as Junmyeon headed into the corporate world himself, his parents were beginning to look to him for answers about entering the world of romance.

“You’re such a likeable hardworking young man,” his father would say, far too many times now for Junmyeon to count. “If you just went out a bit more, I’m sure you could find yourself a nice girl to settle down with, no problem.”

“Your biological clock is ticking, dear,” his mother would comment, voice filled with concern. “You really need to try to find someone and get married soon. You know, one day you’re going to be old just like your father and I. Who is going to take over the business for you if you don’t have any children?”

Junmyeon didn’t mind the aspect of having kids. He had always been good with them, even during his awkward high school years when he had taken a teaching assistant class for an elective, and had gotten assigned to a classroom of kindergarteners. He liked kids, sure. That wasn’t the issue.

There wasn’t a problem when it came to whether or not he was interested in anyone. In fact, although it was a secret he kept under tight lock and key, Junmyeon actually _was_ interested in a certain someone. And that was exactly where the issue was hiding, because although his parents wanted him to settle down with a woman, Junmyeon had his eyes on a man.

**

Working in an office, especially at corporate level, could be highly taxing and mind-numbingly repetitive. Junmyeon, despite still having quite a bit to go before he stepped up to the position of CEO, had already experienced the continuous and grueling schedule. The days often blended together. He was sure that without his calendar, and several reminder alarms on his phone, he’d be a lost cause.

He had an image to maintain, and although he wanted to say he was accustomed to the assortment of suits and ties he was always wearing nowadays, he wasn’t. He often felt like he was being strangled underneath the knot of his necktie, fiddling with it quite often during the day in an attempt of loosening it and getting more air down his windpipe.

Junmyeon was plenty aware that picking at his tie definitely did _not_ look professional, but he couldn’t help himself, especially when he was standing in line with nothing to keep his hands occupied. It was a Tuesday, wedged in the middle of an already chaotic week, and Junmyeon needed _something_ as a pick-me-up. If he was being honest with himself, Junmyeon knew that he was a bit of a caffeine addict, starting each and every morning with a cup of coffee. Depending on how tired he was and how deep he was in to-do work, he would down a couple more over the course of the workday.

His office building had a large beak room complete with complementary coffee, but Junmyeon would much rather step out of the four towering walls of his workplace. Despite how much money the corporation raked in, the coffee was mediocre at best. Additionally, sometimes Junmyeon just needed a break, even if the escape away from his desk and duties was less than fifteen minutes.

Early mornings were too busy. Junmyeon tried to wait it out the best he could, usually ducking out of the office around nine. Majority of the office workers were already in-house by then, so the crowds weren’t as bad. Thankfully, even if the crowds were unexpectedly large and the wait was a little long, at least his commute was short.

The shop was stationed directly across the street from his building. Junmyeon’s office was on one of the higher floors of the enormous structure; he could always see the smaller business from the comfort of his chair through his window. It had been there for as long as Junmyeon could remember, profits kept alive by the exhausted and caffeine-desperate individuals like Junmyeon himself. He had passed the building many times on his morning commute, but he had never set foot inside until a month ago on a whim when he found out the coffee machine in their office was broken. The coffee for sale in the little shop across the street was actually quite delicious, and the same went for their baked goods. Junmyeon wasn’t big on sweets, but the seasonal pumpkin bread he had sampled was _incredible._

And, well, there was one other reason Junmyeon preferred going to the café across the street from his office, and it was also the same reason why Junmyeon felt like he was choking even though his tie definitely wasn’t too tight.

Call it childish, but that one little initial visit into the café last month had caused an eruption of feelings to come to life inside of him, and it was all because of one person he had bumped into by sheer chance.

The fact that it had been a coincidental meeting wasn’t exactly why it bothered him. Junmyeon knew already that those types of things happened all the time. Some strangers were attractive. But to develop a crush on them without knowing a single thing about them? That was a whole other realm of pathetic in Junmyeon’s eyes, and yet, there he was, harboring some squishy little crush deep inside his heart on some guy he had never even spoken to in his life.

He didn’t even know the man’s name, and that was the worst part.

Junmyeon hadn’t spoken to him the first time he had set foot inside the café and he hadn’t spoken to him now either. Junmyeon had spotted him behind the counter as he waited in line, watching how he fumbled with packages of bags of coffee beans that he was extracting from a newly delivered box before clumsily dropping a good handful of them onto the floor. He hurriedly bent down to pick them up, narrowly avoiding cracking his forehead on the edge of the counter in the process. And when he straightened himself, there was Junmyeon, staring at him. The man flashed him a bright and sheepish smile, gums peeking out from between his lips, eyes crinkling at the corners as the tips of his ears visibly turned red.

It was cute and Junmyeon at that moment gulped as he felt his pulse quickening.

That was then, and ever since, Junmyeon could feel the attraction blossoming within him. It was dangerous territory, falling for someone he didn’t even know, and Junmyeon already had an inkling that this was not going to progress. And even if it did, he knew he was probably going to have his heart broken. Slowly falling for someone like this never added up.

But Junmyeon couldn’t stop himself from looking, and couldn’t contain the rapid beat of his heart. The stranger was inside the café every time Junmyeon stopped by, and yet, Junmyeon had never, not once, spoken to him. There had been a few close calls, near encounters where they met eyes from across the room. Junmyeon would quickly look away in embarrassment most of the time, and the remaining instances, when the man would open his mouth to speak to him, Junmyeon’s head whipped sideways to act like he was no longer interested. It was a mixture of shyness and wanting to just crawl under a rock, unable to believe his own behavior, because he knew he was acting like some high school girl with a crush, and he knew he was being creepy.

But he just couldn’t help it.

Just like any other day, the man was within the four walls of the café. Junmyeon could see him standing behind the counter, holding a clipboard in one hand and nibbling on the end of a ballpoint pen in thought. His concentration was running deeply and it was almost as if he was trying to draw something, pursing his lips as he scribbled upon the surface of his clipboard. Waiting for his drink, Junmyeon stood off to the side of the café near the pickup counter, hands tucked into the pockets of his suit pants as he watched. All other sounds around him were watered down background noise, as if it was entirely silent around him as he stood there staring at the man he had seen for several weeks, but hadn’t dared speak a word to. They were calling his order and Junmyeon didn’t even hear it, whisked away from reality as he stared.

It wasn’t until the man glanced up from his work that Junmyeon snapped back into reality. With cheeks fighting to redden, Junmyeon quickly looked away, trying and failing to act as if he hadn’t just been staring the stranger down as if his life depended on it. The barista had managed to snag his attention at last, and Junmyeon, spouting apologies and words of thanks at the same time, hurriedly grabbed his coffee before he made a beeline for the door.

As always, the confused blinking of the stranger he had left behind went unnoticed.

**

“You’re a creep,” Minseok said bluntly. “Are you aware of that?”

Junmyeon’s eyebrows pinched together in a scowl as he continued to sip his coffee. The drink was still hot even though it had been slowly cooling off while it sat on the edge of his desk. Minseok had been his secretary for quite a while now, and he was one of the very few people that Junmyeon allowed to have glimpses into his personal life. After all, he was working on becoming the head of the company, and the last thing he needed was for people to know _too_ much about him, especially his weaknesses. Junmyeon tried to keep on a cool and collected façade at all times. He failed royally around his little crush though and Minseok, from the stories Junmyeon had told him, knew that plenty well.

“I’m not a creep,” Junmyeon mumbled, setting his cup back down. “I’m just awkward.”

“You’re creepily awkward,” Minseok commented dryly. “Or awkwardly creepy. Take your pick.”

“Neither are good choices,” Junmyeon complained quietly under his breath.

“Well, you have to choose one of them,” Minseok argued, his facial expression not changing in the slightest. “So again, take your pick, because you’re being way too weird around this guy.”

“I can’t help it,” Junmyeon whined, knowing he was being immature, but it didn’t stop him. He trusted Minseok; he could be himself around him. “I like him. Every time I get near him it’s like I forget how to talk. Or act. Or breathe.”

Minseok released a soft snort of amusement, playfully rolling his eyes. “Junmyeon, have you tried to just _talk_ to him? You know, like a normal human being. Just say hello to him, at the bare minimum. It’s a start.”

“What part of ‘I forget how to talk’ did you not comprehend? I can’t think near him, let alone talk to him. I still don’t even know his name,” Junmyeon cried, propping his chin up and into his hands as he rested his elbows on his desk.

“You could ask him what his name is,” Minseok offered.

“That’d be creepy,” Junmyeon huffed.

“You’re already creepy, Junmyeon,” Minseok pointed out as he lightly shook his head. “And, no offense, you’re a little hopeless.”

Junmyeon didn’t bother to argue about that, knowing that Minseok had a valid point indeed.

**

There was an oak tree visible from Junmyeon’s office window. It was rather old and quite large too, having survived many storms and an assortment of other rocky weather conditions. The season was slowly beginning to change. Junmyeon hadn’t been paying it much attention at first, but the signs were becoming more and more evident. The air outside was getting cooler, the winds were slowly getting stronger. As Junmyeon headed down the elevator to retrieve his cup of coffee from the café right across the street, he couldn’t help but notice how the first few leaves were breaking off their branches of the oak tree.

The weather was changing, but there was one other thing that was changing too.

It had been several weeks, after all, since Junmyeon had first set eyes on the clumsy stranger within the four walls of the café. Junmyeon, after all this time, still didn’t know his name, and hadn’t spoken a single word to him. He had attempted to a couple of times, but he clammed up, and nothing would come out in the end.

Junmyeon had expected for it to be like any other day, but he was mistaken.

The shop was a little slow that morning, probably from a combination of the weather and the late morning hours. Everyone had already taken in their daily dose of caffeine by ten AM. There were a few stragglers here and there, but only a meager two people in line before him.

Like always, as he stood in line, Junmyeon scanned the café as quickly as he could so that he could try to find the man he had been eyeballing for the past couple months. It wasn’t hard to find him with the shop nearly empty. He was settled in near the right-hand side of the store, brow furrowed in concentration as he slowly worked on rearranging the layout of the tables.

Junmyeon hadn’t noticed it before, but he did now, and he swallowed as he studied the slim but well-sculpted arms that protruded from the sleeves of the man’s shirt.

Instead of staring, Junmyeon tried to keep himself occupied by tinkering with his phone as he waited for his coffee. Maybe Minseok really did have a point. Constantly staring at the poor guy but never trying to talk to him was probably extremely weird, especially when the man typically caught him in the act anyway. The memory alone was enough to make Junmyeon cringe.

Of course, knowing his luck, the one time he was on his phone, was the one time he should have put it away. When his order was called, Junmyeon stepped over to the pickup counter to collect his drink. The sound of moving chairs and scuffling table legs was so distant in his ears, as he was distracted by reading an email on his phone at the moment. Junmyeon moved to step away from the counter, phone in one hand and drink in the other, and wasn’t paying a bit of attention to where he was going.

Distracted, and in the wrong place at the wrong time, Junmyeon walked right in front of a table as it began to move.

It wasn’t a severe amount of force, but it was enough to sting. Junmyeon dropped his phone in the process and he stumbled, squeezing his coffee cup way too hard. The lid popped off and as he staggered sideways, Junmyeon felt a sharp pain against the skin of his chest as his hot coffee splashed all over him.

“I am _so_ sorry!” There was a voice then, one Junmyeon had never heard before. Struggling to gather his senses, too much being thrown at him at once, Junmyeon regained his footing. With one hand clutching a handful of his shirt to get the hot, wet fabric away from his skin, Junmyeon turned sideways to follow the voice. He opened his mouth to reply, but the words immediately died in his throat as he realized who was talking to him. It was his crush of far too long, practically towering over him, and eyes wide with panic. “Are you alright? I’m so, so, _so_ sorry, I didn’t see you!”

Junmyeon opened his mouth and closed a few times, looking a lot like a fish out of water. He finally managed to at least nod back, still completely and utterly thrown for a loop. The man stooped down to pick up Junmyeon’s fallen phone, brow creased with worry.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked again, biting down on his lower lip. “Nothing hurts?”

“Just my pride,” Junmyeon joked, at last managing to regain his voice. He was freaking out a little, internally at least, so his voice was more of a squeak, but at least he managed to say something. The fact he was finally talking to his crush was completely and utterly nerve-wracking. “Sorry, I—I should’ve been paying more attention.”

“No, don’t apologize! I wasn’t looking where I was going either. I’m just glad I didn’t completely bowl you over,” the man said quickly. His voice was so much different than from what Junmyeon had been expecting. Deep and warm, smooth too. He shivered, and the man was suddenly trying to swap items with him, prying the coffee cup out of his hand to instead give Junmyeon back his phone. “What was your order? Let me get you another drink.”

“Oh—No, no, that’s alright,” Junmyeon babbled, beginning to realize they were starting up a conversation that was even more awkward the situation itself. Thankfully the other employees and the remaining patrons had seemed to have forgotten about them at this point, leaving him and the strange man to talk in peace. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Please, allow me,” the man pressed, and Junmyeon felt himself caving. When he released a sigh of acceptance, shyly telling the other what he had ordered, he watched the man’s eyes light up in understanding. “Wait one moment.”

The stranger scampered away, tripping over his own two feet in the process as he headed for the counter. Junmyeon’s lips twitched into a small grin. It was no wonder he was constantly dropping things and had bumped into him like that on accident; the guy was a klutz, through and through. It was cute. Junmyeon couldn’t deny that. And although his hip was throbbing from where the edge of the table had been rammed into him, he wasn’t upset in the slightest.

The man came scampering back a few moments later with a new cup of coffee, and his eyebrows immediately upturned upon studying Junmyeon’s appearance more fully.

“Oh, your _shirt_ ,” he fussed, biting his lip as he examined the damage. The white button-up Junmyeon was wearing underneath his open suit jacket was stained brown from the coffee spill. “I can pay for you to have that dry-cleaned, if you would like—“

“It’s alright! Seriously, it’s fine. I have a spare in my office. It’s not my first time spilling something on myself during my shift,” Junmyeon said with a small laugh, trying to ignore how his heart was beating a mile a minute now. “The coffee is plenty. Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” the man replied. His eyes seemed relieved, twinkling gently. He cocked his head a little to one side. Junmyeon couldn’t help but stare at him from over the rim of his coffee cup. The stranger had a memorable face, dark-colored eyes that seemed so bright, thick eyebrows that matched the short locks of his black hair. “I guess I should’ve guessed you’re an office employee from the suit. Where do you work, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Junmyeon nodded his head to one side, as if trying to motion to his building. “Kim Enterprises.”

“The one across the street?” The man’s eyes grew big and round when Junmyeon casually nodded in reply. “Wow. Man, I know I’m taller than you, but you make me feel small. You’re working in some massive corporation company and all I do is own a place that sells coffee and snacks.”

“Well, that’s not exactly a bad th—Wait,” Junmyeon started, abruptly stopping at the man’s words caught up to him. It was now Junmyeon’s turn to look shocked, eyes blinking open wider. “You’re the _owner?”_

“I am. Oh, jeez, where are my manners? I’ve seen you in here so many times and I never bothered to say hi or introduce myself or anything!” the man blabbered, before quickly shoving a hand in Junmyeon’s direction. “I’m Yifan.”

“…Junmyeon,” he replied after a moment, extending his limb. Yifan’s hand _engulfed_ his, large palm and long fingers practically swallowing his own hand whole. He gulped thickly. Here he was, talking with his crush, shaking his hand, and not to mention the blaring fact that his crush was the _owner._ “It’s—It’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is all mine. I’m just so thankful you didn’t lash out at me for this whole accident thing,” Yifan said. He chuckled. “And I mean, well, I’ve seen you in here a lot, but you’ve never spoken to me before. I thought maybe you hated me for some reason. And after making you spill coffee on yourself, you _would_ have a reason to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Junmyeon answered, much too quickly for comfort. His cheeks flushed a little. “Trust me. I don’t. It’s okay.”

“That’s a relief. I hope you keep coming back then,” Yifan said with a grin, nodding once as if to emphasize his point. “I’m sorry to cut this so short, Junmyeon, but I need to get back to work. I need to have this floor plan completely redone by lunch.”

“I need to get back to the office anyway,” Junmyeon told him, wishing deep down he could stay longer. “Um… Thank you. Again. For the coffee.”

He cringed internally. Minseok was right. He _was_ weird.

“You don’t need to thank me, but you’re welcome,” Yifan said, flashing him a smile from over his shoulder. “Take care!”

Junmyeon nodded at him, swiveling on his heel and heading for the door. Even as he stepped outside, and into the autumn air, his heart was still pounding inside of his ribcage.

**

The initial meeting between them had given Junmyeon some courage. ‘Some’ was the key word. He was still nervous around Yifan, unsure of how to act around him or what to say, anxiety stemming from the fear of screwing up around his crush making him terribly awkward and shy. But at least now he didn’t desperately avoid Yifan’s eyes at all times. With some encouragement from Minseok as he stepped out of his office to head across the street, Junmyeon slowly found himself opening up a little more. It started small, nothing more than pleasantries, and even though his pulse continued to run wild and out of control every time Junmyeon saw Yifan, after a few weeks, he managed to step it up and hold short conversations with the guy he was crushing on so hard.

But there was just one major problem. Junmyeon could tell, plain as day, that Yifan was only trying to be friendly. Yifan was totally oblivious to how Junmyeon felt about him, as if all of Junmyeon’s stuttering and shyness was just an aspect of his personality and not tied to a crush.

They were making progress little by little, but it wasn’t nearly enough, and the fact that Yifan had no _clue_ as to how he felt made him just want to slam his head against his desk.

Still, at least some progress was better than none, he supposed. Junmyeon didn’t have the highest patience, but he was trying his best. In the following days since he initially talked to Yifan, the café owner always said hello to him every time he stopped by, flashing him that grin filled with glittering white teeth that always made Junmyeon’s heart beat like crazy.

Their conversations were limited for the most part. Junmyeon was usually in a hurry and Yifan was typically swamped with work of his own. They usually shared formalities, asking each other how they were, sometimes making some small talk about the weather if there was an opportunity for it. But overall, it wasn’t anything _too_ deep.

One step at a time, Junmyeon tried to tell himself daily, but he only wished the steps were a little bigger than they currently were.

**

“I was born in China,” Yifan told him one windy morning. Leaves scuttled across the sidewalks and pavement. The clouds were big and gray with impending rain. Junmyeon had tossed a coat on atop of his suit when he had walked next door. Although they still had quite a while to go before they knew every little thing about each other, they had been making good progress this week. The shop was a little quieter due to the cold weather, and it gave Yifan and Junmyeon a bit more time to talk to one another. Junmyeon would be a liar if he claimed he didn’t enjoy it. Yifan was the conversational type, and Junmyeon wasn’t. Yifan had told him countless things about his life so far while Junmyeon was struggling to find some sort of response to all his facts and tales. “I moved here with my mom when I was young.”

Junmyeon couldn’t help but smile a little at the mental image of a young Yifan. “I’m sure you were very cute. So that’s how you wound up in a city like this?”

“Well, not quite. I became a business major in college, got addicted to caffeine to stay up late and work on assignments, took some baking classes here and there… That’s what paved the road for me,” Yifan admitted. He and Junmyeon were sitting in the far corner of the café together, watching the browning leaves break off the trees that lined the city streets outside. The shop was quiet and deserted, and the employees were chatting softly among themselves as they cleaned up. “To be honest, I’m not a huge fan of the city. Part of me wishes I could just shrink the world down or move somewhere smaller, but you know, with a business degree and such, you have to go where the business is. And when I first started out, the business was in the big city.”

“Would you move somewhere else, if you had the chance?” Junmyeon murmured over the rim of his cup, his chest warm from the liquid and from being around the man he liked so much. Even the littlest of conversations like this was enough to drive him crazy.

“I think I would, yes. Well, provided if the cards all lined up properly. Money isn’t everything, but if I want to survive, I need money,” Yifan joked with a quiet laugh. “It’s a little silly when I admit it out loud, but I have a dream actually.”

Junmyeon couldn’t really relate to that. He couldn’t remember the last time he had hopes and dreams about anything. His life nowadays was merely consumed by work. So, out of curiosity, he hummed, arching his eyebrows to show his interest. “What is it?”

“I actually want to take this whole business thing further, you know? I like making things. Part of wishes I could just start up a chain of my own businesses and sell products, kind of like I do here. It’d be so cool to own and run stores in a few different areas and just create my own menus and all of that,” Yifan repeated with a nod. “Being a café owner isn’t a bad thing, but I hate the city, and I feel like this type of business just doesn’t expand very well. Cafés are boundless and endless, there’s always one no matter where you go. I want to just be unique somehow. Even if it meant starting over and beginning on a clean slate, maybe even running a restaurant or something, a bakery that somehow screams _me_ , that’s what I’d really love to do. I just want to go further than where I am now. I want to grow. Being stagnant is so boring, Junmyeon, especially in a busy and ugly city like this.”

Those words somehow rung so deep within him right then that Junmyeon didn’t know what to say. He understood that feeling. It was almost as if some days he was motionless while the world kept turning far too quickly around him. Junmyeon’s universe was pretty much only work now and he didn’t have dreams anymore. His parents wanted him to settle down and have some kids, but would he even accomplish that? His head was so foggy with his job and his workload that Junmyeon didn’t think he even had things in life he really looked forward to or goals he wanted to meet like Yifan did.

The silence around them then wasn’t uncomfortable but Junmyeon felt anxious anyway, not quite sure as to why or how Yifan had managed to wake up these chunks of uncertainty within him.

“But,” Yifan then said, sighing a bit as he folded his arms over his chest to stare out the window, “I guess the city isn’t all bad. It’s easier to meet people in a busy place, even cool ones now and again. And I mean, hey, my friends list isn’t extensive since I’m bad at keeping in contact with people, but I can at least brag and say I’ve gotten kind of close to a cute and fancy office employee that works right across the street from me.”

Junmyeon had never been more thankful for the wind right then, because Yifan was too distracted by watching the dancing twirls of the discarded leaves in the air to notice his face turning red.

**

Junmyeon had never seen Yifan upset before. It was as if every time he went to visit the café, Yifan was _always_ in a good mood. Even when the deliveries weren’t the proper quantities, even when cranky and uncooperative customers gave him a difficult time, and even when his bony shoulders seemed to sag from the weight of stress upon them, Yifan never let negativity rise to the surface. Sure, Yifan’s default expression was not a happy one, but Junmyeon had never seen Yifan upset or angry, not even once.

That all changed on a rainy winter afternoon.

All of the leaves on the old oak tree outside his office had fallen off, swept away in the winds. The skies had turned gray and gloomy and the air was colder, making Junmyeon’s teeth chatter and his bones rattle with barely any effort.

And of all the days for Junmyeon to forget to bring an umbrella, it was the one.

He hadn’t thought much of it. The café was right across the street after all. The journey would only take him a second. Junmyeon had sloughed off his suit jacket and supported the weight of the fabric in his arms, shielding his head the best he could as he booked it across the street. The downpour did not care about his pathetic attempt of covering himself, thoroughly drenching him and his clothing in a meager minute and well before Junmyeon made it to the door.

By the time he stepped inside, he was literally dripping wet. He ignored the wet floor sign that was stationed by the front door and stepped further indoors, into the warmth, ignoring the squelch of his dress shoes.

He could see the employees behind the counter giving him concerned looks, ones that Junmyeon did not care about, but their whispers did in fact trigger the attention of someone else.

Yifan had been lugging a box out from behind the counter, dropping it once in the process, right on top of his foot. When he straightened himself up again – with some muffled cursing – he seemed to have at last gotten the proper grip on the materials. But as he picked his head up to watch where he was going, it didn’t even matter, because he instead locked eyes with a soaking wet Junmyeon.

The box, once again, was dropped on his foot.

“Kim Junmyeon,” Yifan began, kicking the box aside and nearly tripping over it as he tried to come out from behind the counter. Despite his large size, Junmyeon had never felt intimidated by Yifan’s body before, but he did right then, shrinking down before Yifan as the café owner towered over him. His voice was tight and dangerous in its own way, on the cusp of threatening. His eyes were glazed over, with worry or anger, Junmyeon couldn’t tell. “Did you _seriously_ walk over here without an umbrella?”

Ignoring the stares of the other employees and the few patrons huddled in the corners, Junmyeon stuttered as he tried to reply properly. “I—I-I didn’t have an umbrella—“

“You’re _drenched_ ,” Yifan interrupted, eyes wild with concern. “And as cold as it is? You’re going to catch something! How many times do I have to tell you to be more careful?”

“Yifan, I’m fine,” Junmyeon squeaked.

“You’re fine _now_ , but I swear, if you get sick, I’m going to hurt you for being so dumb. And reckless,” Yifan added, huffing as he grabbed Junmyeon by the biceps before practically shoving him towards the counter. “Hurry up and order so you can go back to your office and change your clothes. I can tell you about my big news later.”

“News?” Junmyeon started, ignoring the fluttering of his heart in his chest, knowing he was currently the fuel for Yifan’s concerned ramblings. “What news?”

“I just said I’ll tell you later. I was going to tell you today, but I don’t want you lingering in here soaking wet like that. The last thing I want is for you to catch pneumonia or to drip your ocean of water all over my floor,” Yifan argued stubbornly. “I’ll tell you later, I promise. It’s nothing bad, so don’t worry about it. You’ll find out soon enough.”

Junmyeon swallowed, unsure of what Yifan meant. He did know, however, that the attention he had just been showered in drove him crazy, and that he wanted, more than anything else, to just spill to Yifan how he felt. But no, he couldn’t, not now. Not when Yifan was frustrated and upset. Not when Yifan was rushing him to leave. Not when Yifan had no clue that Junmyeon liked him, and definitely not when he doubted that Yifan liked him back in the slightest.

But little did Junmyeon know, that the truth was going to come out, sooner or later.

**

Overall, the office was a quiet place. Junmyeon didn’t have too many complaints about his coworkers being rowdy during working hours, nor about their noise level. The fact that he had his own office with a door – instead of being stuck in a cubicle with no privacy – helped block out majority of noise anyway.

So when Junmyeon could hear an assortment of loud voices and energetic yells coming from down the hall on a Thursday morning, he was more puzzled than he was frustrated.

Pushing back his chair, Junmyeon forced himself to get up, stretching for a moment before heading down the hall. The nearer he drew to the break room, the louder the noise became. As he reached his destination, Junmyeon found a group of people huddled within the doorway of the breakroom, all eagerly talking with one another. They were the same group Junmyeon typically saw in the early mornings, ducking into the break room for their morning cup of coffee.

However, there was an additional member to the group that didn’t quite blend in, as he was dressed in a form-fitted black t-shirt and a matching denim jacket.

“ _Yifan_?” Junmyeon blurted before he could stop himself.

He immediately wished he could call his own words back into his mouth, because when he spoke, every single person from his department that was huddled in the doorway turn to look at him.

“Oh, Junmyeon! I didn’t know this was your section,” Yifan replied without a care in the world, oblivious as always to Junmyeon’s distress. Sometimes his obliviousness was cute, and other times, like right now, Junmyeon wanted to smack him for it. Yifan beamed at him, and Junmyeon was at least thankful that Yifan kept talking, because it meant he didn’t have to answer the whispering questions of his colleagues asking how the pair knew each other. “You missed my explanation!”

“What explanation?” Junmyeon asked, furrowing his brow as he squeezed in beside some of his coworkers.

“You haven’t heard?” Jongdae, the man who worked two offices down from Junmyeon, asked in surprise. “The company made some kind of business deal with Yifan. They’re going to start transitioning some of his products into the main break rooms downstairs and one of his coffee lines is going to be in the department break rooms too.”

Junmyeon blinked once, and then twice, slowly letting the news sink into his brain. He had known that Yifan was trying to strike up some deals and get his business going, but he had never expected for that deal to hit at a place so close to home.

“Oh,” was all Junmyeon could reply with, still thrown for a loop. What were the odds that Yifan’s line, of all products, was the one to come crashing into their building?

“There’s a rumor that they’re going to put in a new coffee machine in the big break rooms downstairs,” Baekhyun commented gleefully. “But the whole ‘new coffee line’ thing is for real.”

“You should try the hazelnut one,” Jongdae said, beginning to step away from the doorway so that he could get back to his desk. “It’s so good!”

With Jongdae leading the way, the group began to slowly disperse, heading off one by one to their desks now that the excitement – and free samples – were over. Baekhyun eagerly trailed after Jongdae, nearly treading on his heels with every bounding footstep.

“Do you think we should invite Sehun up from downstairs so he can try?” Junmyeon could hear Baekhyun asking. “You know they have him and Jongin working like crazy on that marketing project.”

With the crowd gone, it left Yifan and Junmyeon alone in the break room, surrounded by a rather awkward silence.

Junmyeon coughed. “So, uh. A coffee line?”

“This is what I’ve been wanting to tell you for the past couple days! I didn’t want to tell you before I received a definite answer, so I wouldn’t jinx anything, but it’s official. You know how I’ve been working on my own coffee recipes and snacks and everything. Some big shot from your company was at the café and we did some talking,” Yifan replied, eyes bright and voice eager, “and he _really_ liked the coffee, you know? So one thing led to another, and now here I am. The financial portion is a bit foggy at the moment, but like your coworker said, a few flavors are going to start making their way into your building.”

“That’s wonderful,” Junmyeon praised honestly, adjusting his necktie as he offered Yifan a small smile. “I’m sure you’re excited.”

“Oh, definitely. You know how badly I’ve been wanting to take this whole business thing somewhere further and do bigger things with it. This is a huge first step! Who knows where this could take me,” Yifan said gleefully. The little box of flavored coffee bags was nearly squished in his hands, clasped excitedly together. “This actually might take off, Junmyeon, and it’s _crazy._ I might actually accomplish my dream!”

“Well, at least I can brag a little and say I know the guy behind all this,” Junmyeon told him with a soft laugh. “What are you doing here, anyway? Did they need you to come install some stuff downstairs?”

“Ah, no, not really. I just thought it’d be better if I swung by for the sample distribution and stuff. You know, show that I actually care,” Yifan replied with a chuckle. “I was actually trying to find you before I left so I could say hi and tell you the news, but this building is enormous. I didn’t even know where to start. I guess it’s good I decided to stop by the main break rooms before I left.”

“Mm, seems so. It’s good to see you,” Junmyeon said, cheeks warming ever-so-slightly. He could hear thunderous footsteps reverberating down the hall, and both he and Yifan turned, curious, to see where the ruckus was coming from.

Of all the people in the world that Junmyeon expected to see, Minseok was not one of them. His brunet hair was a mess, and he seemed out of breath, panting a little as he practically collapsed against the doorframe for support.

“Junmyeon! God, _finally_ found you. I’ll have to thank Jongdae later for telling me where you were—“ Minseok muttered to himself, nearly wheezing. “But that’s beside the point! You have a call on line one, _now_ , and it’s urgent!”

Junmyeon furrowed his brow at his secretary. “Minseok, I’m not taking any sudden calls today, I’m very busy—“

“Sir, I _know_ , but this is very important,” Minseok pressed, still breathing as if he had run a marathon. “It’s Chanyeol.”

Junmyeon froze. “Like—The CEO of Park Corporations?”

Minseok nodded hurriedly. Junmyeon, visibly a few shades paler than he was a minute ago, quickly spun around to face Yifan. “Yifan, I’m really sorry, but I need to go.”

“Oh, no problem! Go ahead,” Yifan replied coolly. “See you later.”

Junmyeon swiveled around and bolted off then, his jogging footsteps echoing down the hallway. Minseok was still crumpled against the doorframe, struggling to breathe, but he had perked up a bit, as if something had just clicked in his mind.

“What did he say your name was?” Minseok asked then around a few gasps. “I’m Minseok, by the way. I’m his secretary.”

“Well, it seems like Junmyeon keeps you plenty busy,” Yifan joked. “I’m Yifan. I own the café across the street. Junmyeon is a friend of mine.”

Time seemed to freeze then, and Minseok looked up, staring at Yifan for a very long moment in total silence.

“Oh. You’re _the_ Yifan, the owner,” Minseok then started, letting out a breathless laugh. He had his hands on his knees, his panting at last slowing down a bit. “No wonder Junmyeon’s so crazy about you. Managing your own business, and he wasn’t joking when he said you’re good-looking.”

And as soon as those words left his mouth, Minseok realized how badly he had just screwed up.

“What?” Yifan echoed dumbly, his voice sounding genuinely confused. Minseok’s face was a ghostly white as he glanced back up, finding Yifan staring at him in puzzlement. “Crazy about me how?”

But when Minseok tried to reply, nothing would come out. All he could do was stand there, petrified, mouth opening and closing uselessly.

Yifan frowned, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion and realization, puzzle pieces in his mind slowly clicking together. And when Minseok didn’t say anything, Yifan just nodded, stepping forward now.

“I see,” was all he said, box cradled in one arm. “Nice to meet you, Minseok.”

Yifan exited the break room then, vanishing down the carpeted corridor as he headed for the elevator.

**

When Junmyeon clocked out at five PM, he felt exhausted. His stomach ached with hunger, as he had worked through his lunch in favor of getting some more work accomplished. The elevator ride felt much too long and was much too cramped as he remained squeezed into the small metal box with too many other human beings. Junmyeon yawned as he headed for the front door, his shoulders aching as he lugged his heavy briefcase along with him. His stomach growled, reminding him that he needed to eat, and Junmyeon brushed it aside, lost in his typical fog of trying to make it home in one piece.

As he lumbered down the front steps of his building, shivering inside of his jacket, Junmyeon was immediately wide awake as he noticed a familiar figure standing at the bottom.

“Yifan?” Junmyeon asked, eyes blinking open wide as he hurried down the steps, soles of his dress shoes pattering along the surface. Yifan was wearing a heavy winter coat and a hat, cheeks flushed pink from the wind. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you, and you don’t come by the shop in the evenings,” Yifan replied coolly. His face was troubled, plump lower lip pulled in between his teeth so that he could nibble on it in thought. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Junmyeon blinked, oblivious as to where Yifan was going with the conversation. “Oh. Okay, sure. But we could’ve just talked about it tomorrow, you know…”

“It can’t wait until tomorrow,” Yifan replied in a clipped voice, sighing roughly through his nose. “Listen. I’m just going to be straight-up with you on this, alright?”

Junmyeon blinked a couple times, nodding slowly, unsure of what to expect, and it was making him nervous.

“I talked to Minseok,” Yifan then carefully began, watching Junmyeon’s eyes widen bit by bit, “and he told me something interesting regarding how you feel about me.”

Junmyeon gulped. The wind around them was awfully still all of a sudden, as if waiting for Junmyeon to say something. His heart was racing in fear now and Junmyeon felt trapped, his fragile heart merely prey on display for the wolf. He couldn’t read Yifan right then, couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and it scared him immensely.

And, in a moment of blind panic, feeling too cornered to do anything else, Junmyeon spun around and bolted away as fast as his legs could carry him.

Yifan couldn’t break his heart if Junmyeon didn’t give him the chance.

“Junmyeon,” Yifan called, hurrying after the smaller male. His long legs came in handy right then, easily allowing him to catch up to Junmyeon before the other could get away from him. He grabbed Junmyeon by the wrist, yanking him back and forcefully twirling him around so that they could face each other properly. Junmyeon’s face was stained a dark red in shame, and it made Yifan frown. “Junmyeon, what in the _world_? Why did you run off like that?”

“You aren’t supposed to know,” Junmyeon babbled hurriedly, staring into Yifan’s confused face for only one second before lowering his eyes in embarrassment. “I don’t want to face you like this.”

Yifan arched a dark, fuzzy eyebrow, eyes glazed over with surprise. “Then what Minseok said is true?”

“I… I-It is. I didn’t want you to know. You aren’t supposed to know,” Junmyeon spat out in a hurry, face red and fingertips trembling. “I didn’t want to make things weird between us.”

Yifan laughed softly, nothing more than a soft passing of breath between his lips. “Why would it make things weird? I’m actually a bit flattered.”

“It makes it weird because I know that I like you, but you don’t like me. That’s why,” Junmyeon muttered, a bit of aggression entering his tone then, eyes watering in frustration. “Yifan, I—I really like you. But I didn’t want to scare you away. Okay? That’s why.”

“Ya know, for an office worker high up on the food chain, you’re a little soft-spoken. I wish you had told me sooner,” Yifan said calmly. “I mean, Junmyeon, all you’ve been doing this entire time is torture yourself. How would you even know how I feel? It’s not like you can read minds. And if you want some honesty out of me, then here’s some food for thought: I think you’re really cute, especially when you get all uncertain of yourself and flustered like this.”

Junmyeon didn’t think his face could get any redder, but it did.

“Y… You do?” he echoed dumbly, his arm limp in Yifan’s grip.

“Well, yeah. Like I said, you’re cute. I’m pretty sure I told you that before, anyway. What, did you think I was lying? Anyone would be blind to miss that,” Yifan said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. “I’m not sure if I like you nearly as much as you like me, but… Hey. What do we have to lose? I wouldn’t mind giving it a shot. I’ve wanted to get to know you more anyway, but you’ve been so skittish around me that it’s been practically impossible to do so.”

Junmyeon’s eyes lowered, tips of his ears flushing to match his face. “Why would you even want to get to know me?”

“A better question would be why _wouldn’t_ I want to? Junmyeon, I’ve been trying so hard to get to know you since that first day I met you, and it’s been like pulling teeth. There’s still so little I know about you because you just won’t open up to me. All this time I thought I was making you uncomfortable of that I had done something wrong to make you that way. I mean, now that I know you like me, I guess it makes a bit more sense, but…” Yifan trailed off, seeming unsure of how to continue, his thoughts all blurring together within his head. “But, well, I don’t have much else to provide for an argument on this topic. I haven’t been able to bond with you really well, but I do find you as someone who is very easy to talk to. I’m not a chatterbox with most people, but you have this air around you that makes me feel comfortable and at ease and it makes me want to talk to you. Or, well, maybe it’s because I talk when I’m nervous…”

“Why would you be nervous around someone like me?” Junmyeon asked, his voice hardly above a mumble.

“I get nervous around cute guys,” Yifan said, point-blank, no shame in his voice. Junmyeon’s face felt as if it was on fire and he audibly swallowed, staring up at Yifan in stunned silence. Yifan cleared his throat. “Yeah, okay, awkward and embarrassing confession, but it’s true. The first time I saw you, I thought you were super cute. I wanted to talk to you for so long but you always seemed uninterested, or that you hated me or something. So when I finally got to know you just a little more and you started stopping by more often, I really liked that. And now to hear you have a crush on me… It’s crazy, but in a really good way. I just want a chance, Junmyeon. That’s all. We can at least give it a try, right?”

Junmyeon forced himself to swallow once more, his throat feeling as if it had closed up on him. He almost wished he could pinch himself to make sure this was real, but all he could do was voicelessly nod in reply.

He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Yifan smile so largely before.

**

“I’m really just thankful you didn’t decide to fire me,” Minseok said honestly the following morning, his expression twisted with embarrassment as he offered Junmyeon an apologetic bow. “I’m still _really_ sorry about what I did.”

As soon as he had made it into the office the next morning, Junmyeon had filled Minseok in with all of the events that he had missed, including the conversation with Yifan that included some previously unforeseen confessions. Minseok was instantly spouting apologies left and right for accidentally spilling the truth about Junmyeon’s feelings and love life, but Junmyeon waved them all away. After all, he knew that without Minseok’s blabbering, the truth probably would have never come out on its own.

He tried to remain collected and detached far too often for that, and he knew he was too much of a coward to fess up regardless.

“So what happens now?” Minseok asked then in genuine curiosity as he stood beside Junmyeon’s darkly polished wooden desk.

“He gave me his cell number,” Junmyeon admitted shyly, that one little truthful statement making him want to crawl under a rock. “It’s a start I guess.”

Minseok smiled a bit. “You know, if you two actually plan on giving this whole thing an actual try, the two of you are gonna _have_ to go out on a date together at some point.”

Junmyeon couldn’t find it in himself to scold Minseok for laughing at him when his face turned red in response to that statement.

**

Junmyeon had expected his upcoming visits to the café to be immensely awkward after what had happened between him and Yifan, but he was pleasantly surprised to find that his anxiety had been exaggerated and unrealistic. Yifan gave him the same smiles and same old greetings, flashing him that same stunning smile whenever Junmyeon set foot through the door.

He had been so worried that he was going to destroy their friendship, but if anything, their underlying bond was only strengthening.

The texts, on the other hand, were the awkward portion of their current relationship. Junmyeon did not talk to people very often via text, and he didn’t have very many friends either. It left their virtual chats to be a little forced and uncomfortable, with Yifan trying to lead the way, but Junmyeon was trying his best to keep up. When Yifan dropped him little flirtations every now and again, Junmyeon sometimes attempted to flirt back. And although it was usually cringe-worthy and cheesy enough to make him choke, the both of them could still get a good laugh out of it.

Despite the fact their relationship was just beginning, Junmyeon had to admit, he did feel happy, for the first time in many moons.

**

“I want you to take you out on a date,” Yifan announced bluntly on a freezing cold Friday morning. He was full of smiles that day, bundled up nice and snug in an open jacket and a scarf.

Junmyeon nearly choked on his coffee. The old café windows were foggy from the cold outside. Winter had struck them violently. The first few flakes of snow for the season had already fallen, creating a featherlight dusting of white along rooftops and collecting in the nooks and crannies of the winding limbs that belonged to the tree outside his office window.

“Like what?” Junmyeon asked then, coughing a little as he tried to clear his airway from the humidity that clogged it.

“That’s a bit of a tough question. I mean, it _is_ winter after all, so we’re a little limited on outdoor ideas, aren’t we?” Yifan hummed, mostly speaking to himself as he tapped his finger against his lower lip in thought. His eyes then seemed to light up after a moment, as if struck with a certain idea. “Wait. It’s almost Christmas!”

Junmyeon blinked and slowly cocked his head to one side. “Um… Yifan, I don’t celebrate Christmas…”

“Psh. Details, schmetails. Not important! You don’t have to celebrate to enjoy the sights,” Yifan rambled, and Junmyeon quirked an eyebrow, unsure as to where Yifan was headed with this conversation. “They have this light festival downtown every year throughout December. It’ll be busy since it’s the weekend, but I think it’d be pretty cool. It’s one of those events where you can just travel at your own pace and look at all the lights and decorations. It’s actually quite beautiful after dark.”

“Oh,” Junmyeon said intelligently, blinking slowly as he tried to absorb what Yifan was telling him. He didn’t have high hopes for the event though; it didn’t sound very romantic from the way Yifan was describing it. Still, he had to trust Yifan on this one. He didn’t have anything to lose anyway. “Um. I guess text me the address then? I’ll give it a try.”

Yifan just grinned at him, showing off a line of pink gums. “Glad to hear it.”

**

Their first date, surprisingly, went off without a hitch. Junmyeon had been a little nervous, as he hadn’t been on a date in _years_ , let alone with a guy or someone he had liked nearly as much as he liked Yifan. Junmyeon had to admit, he wasn’t expecting much, but he had both gone in and come out of the event pleasantly surprised. The snow wasn’t so deep that it caused any problems, just a small layering of it along the ground. Once night fell, and he met up with Yifan, their surroundings seemed to come to life. For a moment, Junmyeon felt like a kid again, eyes wide open with amazement. The decorations ranged from large wreaths to snowmen woven out of branches to an array of reindeer. There were people of all ages that had entered the event as well and even though Yifan had been correct when he had predicted for it to be rather busy, Junmyeon didn’t mind.

_“Having a good time?” Yifan asked him, a small and gentle smile on his face as he walked alongside Junmyeon. His clunky black boots thudded along the ground, undersides caked with snow. “I thought you’d like it.”_

_“It’s very pretty. Color me impressed,” Junmyeon said with a grin of his own, his eyes bright and twinkling from the reflection of the lights around them. “Thank you for inviting me.”_

_“Sure. I’m glad you agreed to come. It’s more fun to partake in this stuff when you have someone to go with you. It makes memories,” Yifan murmured, his own eyes glassy and warm. And, without a moment of hesitation, Yifan reached down between them. Junmyeon’s eyes widened for a second as he felt Yifan’s gloved fingers lacing gently between the notches of his own, gently holding his hand within his own large one. “And, not to sound like a big cheeseball this early in the evening, but I don’t mind making a memory here with you.”_

Yifan did not kiss him that night, but Junmyeon didn’t mind. The date, despite being outdoors, had left him feeling immensely warm and downright loved. Yifan had held his hand from the halfway point until they finished their journey, and even then, Junmyeon didn’t want him to let go. Yifan’s hand was so big, so warm, so _perfect,_ as if it was somehow made for him.

It made Junmyeon’s heart flutter.

After the ice was broken for the first date, their days slowly piled up, assembling a collection of dates over the coming weeks. Yifan took him to see a movie for their second date and Junmyeon wasn’t ashamed to admit how he had snuggled down against Yifan’s side when the man wrapped an arm casually about his shoulders during the film. They had parted with a hug then that had lasted far too long to be considered casual.

For their third, wedged in the center of January, they went ice skating together. The snow and ice of winter had yet to melt and the weather was perfect for an outdoor skating date together. They went in the late afternoon with a few hours due before nightfall, and while they had both been excited to begin, there was just one major problem that Yifan hadn’t told him about.

Yifan didn’t know how to skate.

“Why on earth didn’t you tell me that you didn’t know how to skate?” Junmyeon sighed out, holding Yifan’s gloves hands gently but firmly in his own. Yifan was literally shaking in fear, staring down at his skates with wide eyes as if expecting his feet to slide out from underneath him at any second. “It’s not like I would’ve judged you for it.”

“It’s not that! It’s just,” Yifan started, letting out a squawk as he clumsily tripped over his own two feet, barely managing not to fall down right then and there. He clung to Junmyeon tighter, “I know you really wanted to do this and I was scared that if I told you I couldn’t skate you wouldn’t want to go anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. If you were here, of course I’d still want to go, regardless as to whether you can skate or not,” Junmyeon argued, a playful smile on his lips as he continued to hold Yifan’s hands for support. “Just relax. I’m not going to let you fall, okay?”

“I can’t relax,” Yifan choked out, panic in his voice and shining in his eyes as he clung for dear life. “Don’t let me go, Junmyeon.”

“I won’t.”

“I mean it,” Yifan continued, “don’t you dare let go of me.”

“You’re kind of cute when you’re scared,” Junmyeon teased, unable to stop himself from letting out a laugh when Yifan gave him a dirty look. Junmyeon just playfully rolled his eyes as he stopped skating then, the two of them standing near one of the outer walls and away from other people. “Don’t give me that look. You tease me all the time. Maybe I just wanted to tease you for once.”

“Don’t call me cute,” Yifan argued stubbornly, daring to let go of one of Junmyeon’s hands so that he could reach down and pull Junmyeon’s beanie down over his eyes. “I’m not cute. That’s your job.”

“I’m not cute,” Junmyeon whined, reaching up to adjust his hat.

“Says who?” Yifan huffed, bending himself at the waist so that he could get closer to Junmyeon’s face. The corner of his mouth curled up in an amused smirk. “Anyone who says you aren’t cute definitely needs to have their vision checked.”

Before Junmyeon could formulate a response, Yifan leaned forward then, giving him a gentle peck on the mouth that lingered for much too long. Junmyeon was frozen for a moment, struggling to process what was happening. And when he at last managed to gather his bearings, he started to kiss Yifan back, his small gloved hands reaching upward to cup Yifan’s angled jaw in his hands.

The world around them was forgotten as dusk began to fall, and as the two began to kiss as if their life depended on it, the streetlights began to click on for the night in silence.

**

Dates with Yifan had quickly clawed their way to the top of Junmyeon’s list of favorite things to do. Dates one, two, and three quickly spiraled away and became meager memories. Junmyeon could feel himself slowly falling head over heels for the dorky but loving café owner, eagerly leaping into making plans with him and losing track of time in favor of being in Yifan’s company. Locations and dates all blurred together in Junmyeon’s head as the weeks passed. The previously naked trees began to slowly bloom again, little buds of flowers poking free in the warming air of spring. Pollen caked itself along cars and windows and Yifan laughed at him in amusement when Junmyeon’s eyes turned red and watered due to his allergies.

But Junmyeon just couldn’t be mad at him for it.

Yifan joined Minseok on Junmyeon’s small list of people he trusted entirely. He had grown so much more comfortable with Yifan over the past few months and he had shed his shy and awkward shell over time, opening himself up to allow Yifan to see more parts of him that he had previously kept under such tight lock and key. He didn’t mean to spill so much information about his personal life, but all of that came fumbling out too at some point.

He even told Yifan about his parents; he had barely even mentioned them to Minseok.

_“My parents keep trying to marry me off to different women,” Junmyeon joked one day as he and Yifan sat on a park bench together. Yifan paused in licking his ice cream cone to give Junmyeon a look of bewilderment. “They keep saying my biological clock is ticking and that I need to hurry up and get married so my wife can pop out some kids.”_

_Yifan snorted. “I take it they don’t know you aren’t into women?”_

_“Ding-ding, we have a winner. I’m still in the closet when it comes to my parents,” Junmyeon admitted with a sigh. He poked at his pile of strawberry ice cream with a pout on his face. “But it’s tough. I mean, yeah, I like guys, but at the same time, I don’t want to disappoint them, you know? I thought about getting married and having kids and stuff, but since I’m not into women…”_

_“Well, just because you’re into guys doesn’t mean you can’t start a family, yeah?” Yifan asked with a shrug of his shoulders. “I’m sure you can find someone who will marry you two and you can always adopt some kids.”_

_“That’s true,” Junmyeon agreed softly. “Well, the positive side is that I do like children, so at least that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about.”_

_“I like them too. They’re cute,” Yifan hummed in approval. “I want a daughter someday.”_

_Junmyeon couldn’t stop himself from smiling around his plastic spoon, his mind almost instantly showering him with imagery of Yifan taking care of a baby girl._

_Call him crazy, but maybe, just maybe, it could be_ their _daughter someday._

The walls each of them had built up throughout the course of their lives slowly crumbled piece by piece. It was as if the two of them had just become so comfortable around each other that there was no longer any need or desire to hide things or feel embarrassed.

Or, well, perhaps there were still a couple things to feel embarrassed about, such as the near meltdown Junmyeon had experienced earlier.

It was nothing major, really, just the sense of fear going into overdrive. Junmyeon had an intense fear of heights. Just like the time they had gone ice skating together, and Yifan hadn’t brought up the fact he couldn’t skate, Junmyeon didn’t mention that he was scared of heights. As they climbed up the fire escape of Yifan’s towering apartment building and made it up to the rooftop, Junmyeon was a complete wreck.

_“But the view is nice,” Yifan started, frowning in concern as he held Junmyeon’s hand. Junmyeon was practically rooted to the ground, unwilling to move any closer to the edge despite how Yifan was gently tugging on his arm. “Come on, you can see nearly the entire city from up here.”_

_“Yifan, I’m not getting any closer,” Junmyeon said, his voice desperate and raw. He had one hand fisted into Yifan’s jacket sleeve, clinging to him. He felt suddenly dizzy. “Don’t let me go, Yifan. I mean it—“_

_“Junmyeon, calm down, we aren’t even close to the edge,” Yifan murmured, bending his knees and therefore helping Junmyeon squat down. “There, easy does it. Just breathe and relax. What in the world has gotten into you? Are you scared?”_

_Junmyeon nodded rapidly, both hands desperately pawing at Yifan’s jacket, too terrified to stand back up. All he could think about was the terrifying view from the railings of the fire escape and the asphalt taunting him from over the edge of the roof, as if knowing he was going to slip and fall._

_“I didn’t know you were scared of heights,” Yifan commented softly, sighing gently through his nose. One of his hands was lying against Junmyeon’s back, rubbing it gently to try to calm him down. “I’m sorry. Come on, let’s go back inside. If you’re too scared, then it’s okay. I’m not going to force you into something that scares you.”_

Yifan was too sweet, too perfect for him, and more often than not, Junmyeon felt like he didn’t deserve him.

But as perfect as a person seemed, no single person on earth _was_ perfect. Yifan wasn’t either, no matter how wonderful he appeared in Junmyeon’s eyes. One of Yifan’s biggest flaws was that when it came to his personal problems, he clammed up in a heartbeat, instead trying to shoulder all of his issues and negative emotions on his own, as if not wanting to bother anyone else, and thinking he was strong enough to handle all of it alone.

“Something is obviously bugging you,” Junmyeon commented one day, sitting with Yifan in one corner of the café as he sipped his iced coffee. The weather was getting too warm lately, much too hot for Junmyeon to peacefully enjoy a steaming hot cup of coffee anymore. The ice cubes that floated around in his drink were a godsend. “Yifan, really, what’s on your mind?”

Yifan had seemed a bit moody lately. Though it was no fault of Junmyeon’s own – and Yifan’s constant reassurance proved that – Yifan was in a bit of a rut. It took him longer to react to jokes, he was smiling less often, and although he still showered Junmyeon with love and affection, Junmyeon more often than not caught him the café unhappily scratching his fingers through his hair as he poured over paperwork and grumpily unpacked boxes.

Yifan, backed into a bit of a corner, sighed as he slumped back in his chair. His button-up was nearly too tight on him, fitted over Yifan’s gangly frame that always seemed to hunch over because of its size. His eyes were a bit distant, staring out of the window in thought.

“I guess it’s this whole business thing,” Yifan at last admitted, lips pursing together in thought. I guess I’m just frustrated. Burned out, stressed, or something. I don’t know. It’s just a lot to deal with sometimes, especially when things aren’t on the bright side.”

“What do you mean?” Junmyeon asked, voice soft and puzzled as he turned his head to glance at Yifan.

“It’s like I told you before. Being a café owner has its ups and downs. I’ve been wanting to take this whole business thing to higher places and just pull off better things, but it’s like I’m stuck. It’s frustrating. I want it so bad I can nearly taste it but it just isn’t happening. I guess it’s not the right time, but still, it sucks,” Yifan said with a sigh. “It’s like I’m _this_ close to accomplishing one of my biggest dreams and I can’t have it. The café isn’t doing as well as it used to either, so that’s just some more stress slapped onto it too. It’s just so, _so_ frustrating.”

“It’ll happen when it’s time,” Junmyeon agreed quietly, nodding along. “Just try not to worry about it.”

“I wish it would hurry up,” Yifan complained, stretching out his long legs and propping his feet up in the seat of a nearby chair. He looked a lot like a grumpy teenager right then, pouting with his arms folded over his chest. “I feel like the longer I stay in this city the more it drives me crazy.”

“Is it because I’m here?” Junmyeon joked.

Yifan let out a soft snort, lips twitching in amusement. “Well, that’s true. You do drive me crazy, Junmyeon. I’m sure you know that. But, well, there’s something else I’m working on that’s driving me nuts…”

“Something else?” Junmyeon questioned, tilting his head to one side as he took a long swig of his drink through his brightly colored straw. “Like what?”

Yifan opened his mouth, looking as if he wanted to reply, before he merely closed it again and shook his head.

“It’s nothing.”

**

There were little differences in the café lately that gave Junmyeon a weird suspicion that something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on what the cause could possibly be. The stock was dipping lower and lower. Junmyeon couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Yifan wrangle out a delivery box from the back room. He could have sworn a couple tables had disappeared and a couple pieces of the drink equipment too, but maybe he was just imagining things.

But one thing he wasn’t imagining was that Yifan seemed a little…odd lately.

He wasn’t as vocal as he used to be, as if something else was stealing away all of his focus. The distant and almost glum look in his eyes reminded Junmyeon of that day on the rooftop, the moment where Yifan spilled out his inner feelings and admitted he felt as if something major was missing from his life.

Junmyeon had tried to point out the changes in his behavior, but Yifan had just shrugged him off, lying and saying that he was fine. His smiles were replaced by puzzled and frustrated expressions as if he was fighting an internal battle with himself, one that Junmyeon had no idea as to what the subject even was.

Whatever it was, it was obviously bothering Yifan greatly; he just wished Yifan would tell him what was bugging him so much. Maybe if he knew the truth, he could help somehow. If there was anything he could do to ease Yifan’s worries, he would gladly do so.

But for now, all he could do was wait.

**

Yifan was oddly distant lately.

Something was wrong, and Junmyeon didn’t quite know what was going on, but he didn’t like it. Yifan’s eyes seemed unhappy and his speech was softer, faraway, as if he was spacing out into another world. Junmyeon wanted so badly to crack open that thick skull of his to see what was on his mind, but it was as if no matter how much he pried and prodded, Yifan wouldn’t tell him what was running wild and loose in his brain.

Still, Junmyeon could easily remember their prior conversation about happiness. He recalled the frustrated twist of Yifan’s lips as he admitted he hated his situation, that he wasn’t satisfied nor happy with his life. _It’s not you_ , Junmyeon could hear him saying _, it’s just the things in my life right now are making me feel like I’m at a dead-end._

But the truth always came out, sooner or later, and there was no way Junmyeon could have ever been prepared for it.

Yifan invited him to dinner. It was horribly upscale and obviously very expensive, neither of which were the types of locations Yifan typically took him to for dates. There was something fishy in the air for things to be taking such a turn, and Junmyeon mentally wondered if Yifan was trying to somehow make it up to him for a mistake he had made without Junmyeon’s knowledge.

But even as dinner actually began, Junmyeon still didn’t have any answers. He frowned worriedly from across the little table as Yifan meticulously cut into his steak, watching it bleed bloody red onto his white plate with distant eyes. Junmyeon knew that look anywhere in the entire world, and he knew, he _knew_ a heavy trouble was weighing on Yifan’s mind.

It seemed like Yifan had been looking that way every single day since he had admitted he was unhappy with his life.

Three glasses of overpriced wine and too many forkfuls of expensive food later, and Yifan sighed, breaking the tense silence that had filled the space between them for the duration of the entire meal.

“Junmyeon,” Yifan started, setting down his knife and fork before wiping his mouth off with his napkin. His broad but bony shoulders were sagging, heavy with a weight that Junmyeon comprehend just yet. “We need to talk.”

Junmyeon’s heart, cowardly and fragile as always, rattled within his chest.

“Junmyeon… Please, just listen to what I’m about to say, and do not take this personally. This isn’t because of you or anything you have done,” Yifan started slowly, staring down at his plate for a moment before sighing once again, lifting his gaze to stare at Junmyeon from across the table. His eyes were tired. “I still care about you very much, and I don’t want you to think I made this decision to hurt you.”

Junmyeon couldn’t speak, barely even managing to force himself to nod in reply.

“I sold the café,” Yifan then said, so quietly Junmyeon had to strain to hear what he was saying. And as soon as it clicked, he felt his heart sink, falling so quickly and painfully into the bottom of his feet, because he knew, he knew that Yifan went where the business was. “The profits just weren’t good enough anymore. The income is good, yes, but between the location and rent of the building and all else being in a very expensive district, it just hasn’t been worth it lately.”

There was a beat of silence between them. Silverware clinked at nearby tables. Soft voices laughed.

“I received a business deal,” Yifan then said, dropping the bombshell on Junmyeon with absolutely no mercy. “And I accepted it. It’s going to help move my ideas along, help me work a little closer towards my dreams. If this works out, my franchise will be starting out as a main headquarters before expanding into at least a three-building location, with each one spread out to a different city.”

A bad feeling swept up into Junmyeon’s heart, and he asked the question that was bothering him the most. “Are they here in town?”

When Yifan remained silent, Junmyeon realized that no, they weren’t, and his chest tightened.

“Headquarters – the first and main location – will hopefully be up and running soon, and we’re looking at a prime location near the western coastline,” Yifan explained slowly, eyes glazed over with worry and concern. “You have to understand that it’s an immense distance from here on the east coast. I’ll have to move to be closer to my job.”

“You’re—“ Junmyeon started, his voice cracking as his eyes widened, “y-you’re leaving?”

Yifan nodded slowly and solemnly. “Junmyeon, I’m sorry, I don’t _want_ to move away like this, but I have to do this for my work and to try to make something more out of my business and my life. Staying in this busy city isn’t enough for me anymore.”

“You—You can’t! You can’t do that,” Junmyeon babbled, his eyes slowly but steadily filling up with a film of tears. “Where am I supposed to go for coffee now? What about the café? What about your employees? What about _me?”_

Yifan’s forehead visibly dimpled in concern. He reached out slowly, gently lying his hands atop of Junmyeon’s own as they trembled against the table. His voice was soft and warm like always and it only destroyed Junmyeon even more. “Junmyeon, I still care about you immensely. You know I do. But this is something I have to do, and please, just try to understand. We can make this work, can’t we? I can come visit. We can do this long-distance, I—“

“It won’t be the same,” Junmyeon argued, the first teardrop splattering onto the tablecloth.

Yifan blinked as he quieted, frowning in thought before he sighed. His hands clasped tighter around Junmyeon’s own. “What is it that you want from me, Junmyeon?”

“I want you to stay,” Junmyeon instantly choked out. “I don’t want you to leave. I—I can go with you—“

“Junmyeon, you’re nearly the CEO of your parents’ company. You need to stay here. Headquarters is here. The company needs you, your staff needs you, your parents need you,” Yifan gently interrupted. “You need to stay here, and I need to go west.”

Junmyeon’s voice cracked. “I don’t want a long-distance relationship. I want _you_. I want you _here_.”

“Junmyeon, that’s the only choice we have,” Yifan pressed, a twinge of frustration and quite possibly regret in his voice. “We can make this work.”

“It won’t be the same,” Junmyeon repeated once again, another tear dribbling down his cheek. “Yifan, you know I’m w-weak. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you being so far away and never being able to see you. I—I _can’t_.”

Yifan pursed his lips and slowly exhaled through his nose. “If you can’t do it…then maybe we should take a break, Junmyeon.”

The world stopped turning.

“A… Are you…?” Junmyeon started, his lower lip wobbling, eyes glittering with a wave of unshed tears. “A-Are you b-breaking up with me?”

When Yifan didn’t reply, Junmyeon knew the answer.

He could have sworn he felt his heart shatter in his chest, crumbling into little shards of glass as he bowed his head. The tears broke loose in one big and vicious wave and Junmyeon couldn’t control himself, clutching Yifan’s hands for dear life as he began to sob uncontrollably right then and there.

**

It had been a day since Yifan told him the news.

Junmyeon already knew what he was getting himself into, and he knew how much it was going to hurt. The relationship between the two of them was crumbling entirely and desperate to have some sense of control and closure, Junmyeon sent off a risky text to Yifan, telling him to come over to his office building just before closing.

Everything was falling apart, but Junmyeon wanted one time, just once, for everything to be okay and for the two of them to take things all the way. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity now that Yifan was leaving the city, and Junmyeon knew this was his only chance.

Knowing that hurt his already broken heart immensely, and part of him knew he was going to regret this, making himself so vulnerable just for this one memory, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He waited until the office building grew dark and deserted and his coworkers went home, filing out one by one until Junmyeon was the last person in his department left. It was then he fumbled with his desk drawer, pulling out the bag he had brought with him that morning.

It didn’t hurt to be prepared.

Yifan took the elevator up to his floor, the shadow of his body against Junmyeon’s glass window startling him for a moment. Once Junmyeon realized who it was, he rose out of his seat, moving over to the door to open it, and thus allowing Yifan entrance into his office.

He must have looked a mess, because Yifan’s eyes were already softening in sympathy.

“You wanted to talk?” Yifan then asked, breaking the silence that surrounded them. “Junmyeon?”

Why did his name have to sound so perfect coming out of Yifan’s mouth? It was just another reason Junmyeon was going to struggle so violently to let him go and move on without him and he hated the circumstances that had come to be. But instead of answering, Junmyeon merely stepped forward, pawing at Yifan’s shirt as he stood on his tiptoes, managing to plant a desperate and hungry kiss on Yifan’s mouth.

Yifan’s head turned away almost immediately, glancing down at the other with pure concern across his face. “Junmyeon… We shouldn’t. I already told you, I have to leave soon—“

“Just one more time,” Junmyeon croaked, his voice cracking with desperation. If he could have just one more moment, just one more session of kisses that made him melt and feel like the most important man in the world, then he’d be a little more satisfied. He hadn’t slept with Yifan, not yet, but he had to now. He had no other options. “Please, Yifan, I just—Just this once—“

“Junmyeon—“

“ _Please_ ,” Junmyeon begged, his voice hitching, “please, Yifan, just this once.”

Yifan, ever since the start, had never been able to say no to Junmyeon.

Junmyeon didn’t have to explain his plans. Yifan seemed to have picked up on them all on his own, judging from the desperate kisses Junmyeon placed upon his mouth, the way his small fingers fisted into his shirt as if terrified to let him go. Junmyeon’s heart throbbed painfully in his chest as his lower back dug into the surface of his desk, tears stinging from behind his closed eyelids.

This was his last chance and then, it was over.

The prep was hasty and messy and rushed. Yifan didn’t ask why Junmyeon had packed a little bottle of lube in his bag, as if he already knew why, knowing that Junmyeon had been waiting for this moment all damn _day_. He cooed softly into Junmyeon’s ear and it made his already broken heart ache to hear Yifan fret over him so worriedly, checking on him to make sure he was alright as Junmyeon desperately crammed one finger inside himself. One, and then two, and there was no patience in his hands as he stretched himself out, making a mess as lube dripped down his thighs. His mouth parted in a whimper as the third finger forced itself in and Yifan held him close then, rubbing his hands down his forearms and peppering kisses across his skin to try to calm him, to show him that he cared.

It only made him feel worse.

Yifan, after some forceful shoving from Junmyeon, seated himself in Junmyeon’s large leather chair, legs spread wide. It didn’t take much to get him stiff, already a little swollen from watching Junmyeon finger himself open so quickly. Junmyeon was achingly hard as he crawled into the larger man’s lap, one hand reaching down to wrap around the cock that was going to be inside of him in only a few minutes.

Yifan’s thighs trembled underneath him as Junmyeon stroked him, quivering muscles and muffled pants and grunts. Junmyeon could feel him swelling, pumping him with more force and speed until Yifan’s dick was curved upwards and begging for him, huge and hard and twitching and _beautiful_ and for a moment’s time, for him and him alone.

There was a lewd, slick sound that seemed to echo off the walls of his office as Junmyeon slowly sank downwards, sucking in a sharp breath as he felt Yifan at last breach him. Biting his lip as he tried not to pay any mind to the pain that clawed its way up the base of his spine, Junmyeon instead focused on Yifan’s face, watching his eyebrows knit together and mouth fall open in a breathless gasp. Yifan couldn’t hold still, hands instantly shooting down between them to clutch Junmyeon’s hipbones, his thighs tensing beneath Junmyeon’s weight.

“Don’t tell me,” Junmyeon started, his voice a little more breathless than he originally expected for it to be, “you’ve never done this before?”

“No, I—I have. You’re just,” Yifan gritted out, mouth hanging open as he let out a whine when his cock wedged a little deeper into Junmyeon’s body, “different. You feel—You’re just—You’re already _amazing_.”

“We’ve barely even started,” Junmyeon pointed out, having to pause for a moment to adjust before slowly easing himself down again. He bit his lower lip a bit harder, his breath coming in sharp pants already. The stretch was painful and the progress was slow but he just couldn’t help it; he was sure that if he was to force himself down in one go, Yifan would split him in half. He was already full enough as it was, at this slow pace. “You can tell me how amazing I am after you fuck me.”

Yifan just nodded then, digging the curves of his fingernails into the soft skin of Junmyeon’s hip. His lips were parted, chest rising and falling a little faster beneath his shirt. Sucking his lower lip in between his teeth and biting down on it in concentration, Junmyeon reached over to grip the armrests of the chair in shaky hands, inhaling deeply before at last managing to sink down the rest of the way. Junmyeon already felt out of breath, unconsciously arching his back as he tried to adjust to the sensation of being stuffed full to the absolute _brim_ with Yifan’s dick. Merely focusing on the _feeling_ of it being lodged so deeply inside him was enough to make Junmyeon’s blood boil, a soft moan escaping his lips as he willed himself to relax.

Neither of them moved or spoke for a moment, nothing filling the air about them but labored breaths. Junmyeon was the first to come back to life, licking his lips and ignoring the bead of sweat that trickled down into the line of his right eyebrow. His voice was a croak already. “Move.”

Yifan hesitated, his hands still shackled in a death grip around Junmyeon’s waist, thumbs smoothing in absent comforting circles over the sharp curve of the bones pressing against his skin. “Are you sure? You still seem a little… Um—“

“I said _move_ , Yifan,” Junmyeon practically hissed, his patience beginning to fade. He couldn’t stand the wait any longer. Yifan was swollen and huge and practically _throbbing_ inside of him and although Junmyeon knew he wasn’t completely adjusted yet or prepared as well as he could be, he needed something, he needed it _now._ “I said move, now _move_.”

“Are you always this bossy during sex?” Yifan asked, pursing his lips for a moment. His thighs were tensing up all of a sudden, a trigger about to be pulled. “Or are you just that desperate for me?”

Junmyeon’s mouth opened in order to argue, but all that came out was a startled but pleased moan as Yifan’s hips suddenly bucked beneath him, therefore slipping out partially for a moment before slamming roughly back inside. Junmyeon dug his nails into the arms of the chair for support, both to balance himself and to bounce downward, eagerly meeting Yifan as he fucked up into him.

 Junmyeon honestly didn’t care that they were doing _this_ in his office, nor did he care that they were having unprotected sex in his genuine Italian leather chair that cost several hundred dollars. It didn’t matter, and as he sat there, taking the rough thrusts that came barreling inside of him, Junmyeon blearily wondered just what the dark-colored fabric would look like splattered with his release.

“Okay?” Yifan whispered, barely over heard the repetitive wet slaps of skin against skin.

Junmyeon’s nails scraped at the handles of the chair, palms squeezed tightly around them, veins visibly protruding along the backs of his hands. Junmyeon’s lips were parted only slightly, a low gurgle resonating from the depths of his throat as he nodded weakly. He was in pain, and a lot of it; he wasn’t prepared enough, he hadn’t taken the time to care for his body properly before they had started, but Junmyeon just couldn’t wait anymore. He had been wanting this for so long to begin with, and now both his time and opportunities were running out. Yifan was addictive, even like this, head of his cock rubbing viciously against the slicked walls of his insides and absolutely destroying that bundle of nerves deep within him. It made Junmyeon’s toes curl, made him whine, and even made him choke, because even though his head was cloudy and he was numbed with pleasure, he knew, deep down, he wouldn’t be able to experience this ever again.

Yifan’s hips slammed upwards from underneath him right when he forced himself downward. The depth alone made Junmyeon cry out, white-hot pleasure rupturing within him in the process. He could feel his dick rubbing against Yifan’s stomach as they moved, and he could feel Yifan’s hands clutching his hips desperately, thumbs smoothing in warm little circles over the bones as if trying to soothe him, as if he _knew_ he was hurting Junmyeon while they did this.

But Junmyeon doubted that Yifan knew how much he was hurting him emotionally, not just physically.

A choked sob rose from the back of Junmyeon’s throat and his body seemed to lose its willpower. His hands loosened from the chair. Gravity pulled him downward. Yifan’s grunt was startled as Junmyeon sank down upon him, his body practically sucking him in with one swift movement. Junmyeon’s fingers fumbled then, hands coming to rest against Yifan’s chest, as if desperately trying to feel his pulse beneath his skin one last time. He could feel Yifan’s hands moving too, wrapping tightly around him to support his weight, to help him move a little easier, still rutting up into Junmyeon just like he wanted.

It wasn’t fair.

Even right then, Junmyeon knew how great of a catch Yifan was, and he _loved_ him. Even at the moment where they were having sloppy sex in a leather chair in his office, Yifan cared too much. The warm caresses of his hands against Junmyeon skin, smoothing into his heated flesh to try to help him relax, as if silently asking if he was alright. Even though Junmyeon had ordered him to get on with it initially, Yifan still asked him if he was okay, checking up on him to make sure he didn’t need a slower pace. Even during sex, Yifan was scared of hurting him. Yifan always looked at him with such adoration, as if Junmyeon was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Yifan was never going to look at him like that again. Junmyeon wouldn’t get to see those eyes at all anymore. He was going to lose every little thing about Yifan he had fallen head over heels for, and he couldn’t take it.

Overwhelmed, drowning in the sensations that came from sex, and being shoved headfirst into a dark, deep pool of negative emotions, Junmyeon cracked. The calm and collected mask he had placed upon his face so long ago cracked and shattered in a moment’s time and Junmyeon was bawling uncontrollably as he sat in Yifan’s lap. His nails dug into Yifan’s forearms and he _cried_ , the noises coming from the back of his throat sounding like pained wails as Yifan corkscrewed his hips upward.

He didn’t realize it until it was too late, but he was cumming, choking on his own sobs as he blew. His thighs were quivering as they tensed and he bore down on Yifan savagely, as if never wanting him to pull out. Through eyes that were barely open, Junmyeon blearily watched the white of his seed paint over Yifan’s belly, dripping down his skin. Yifan’s teeth were gritted tightly and as he scrunched his eyes shut, he felt Yifan snap his hips up one last time, letting out a muffled grunt as he let himself go.

He wasn’t upset that Yifan had just unloaded within him. He was more upset that all he would have left was memories and Yifan’s cum slowly dripping out of him even after he was gone.

Even after they both began to come back down from the haze of orgasm, and even as Yifan relaxed beneath him with a satisfied sigh, slowly softening cock still wedged deep within Junmyeon’s body, Junmyeon could _not stop crying._

“Don’t l-leave me,” he stuttered, not proud of the way he choked on his own words, not bothering to give Yifan a chance to ask him what was wrong. “P-Please don’t l-leave me.”

Yifan’s eyes blinked open slightly wider at those words, his lips pulling downward in worry. Junmyeon was hiccupping as one of Yifan’s large hands raised skyward, this thumb gently rolling over the apple of one cheek to wipe away his tears.

He could see the concern in Yifan’s eyes and he hated how it was all because of him.

“Please don’t cry,” Yifan said softly, cupping Junmyeon’s face in his hands now. His voice was so quiet and gentle despite his large frame and deep voice. Junmyeon couldn’t stop, totally unhinged at this point as he sobbed. “Junmyeon, we talked about this. I have to leave.”

“ _D-Don’t_. You c-can’t. I don’t want you to go—I want you here, I _love_ you, remember?” Junmyeon babbled, face sopping wet, eyes already turning red. His nails bit harder into Yifan’s arms. He was begging, shamelessly, _desperately._ “You can’t j-just _leave_ like this. You _can’t!”_

“I’m sorry, Junmyeon,” Yifan whispered. Junmyeon could feel his heart breaking, shattering to a million pieces right then and there, because he knew. He knew Yifan was not going to change his mind, no matter how much he wished it to be so. He was so selfish. He knew this was better for Yifan, for his future, for his life, for his dreams, and Junmyeon wanted to keep him chained within this ugly city. He couldn’t let him go. He just couldn’t. But no matter what he said or did, Yifan was still going to leave. “I’m so sorry, but this is what I have to do. Please try to understand.”

Junmyeon buried his face into the junction of Yifan’s neck and shoulder and wept, fighting to ignore how much Yifan’s embrace felt like home.

**

The café was repainted.

Junmyeon easily noticed that. Once the ownership traded hands, it was as if every little detail that Yifan had put into the shop, that made it _his_ , began to vanish. The paint was first. Junmyeon watched the welcoming shades of crèmes and blues disappear under layers of red and white. The clusters of white and yellow daffodils sitting in cute pots were left to die under the sun and were dug up and removed. The logo changed. The old front door that creaked on its hinges was ripped down and replaced with a new red one. Junmyeon hadn’t dared set foot inside to see what else had been altered.

Yifan had only been gone a week and his existence was already erased entirely.

It wasn’t like Junmyeon had any photographs of them together. With the café gone, he had nothing left to preserve the memories they had created. All he had left was a single text that Yifan had sent him before he had boarded his flight.

 _“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you this much_ ,” it had read, letters blurred together as his tired and teary eyes struggled to take them in, _“I still really like you, Junmyeon. Please don’t hate me for this. This is what I have to do. Please just try to understand. Let’s keep in touch. -Yifan”_

It had been six in the morning when he read that text, and Junmyeon merely burrowed deeper beneath his blankets and sobbed, missing him already.

But what was the point in keeping in touch with one another? Junmyeon knew that extending the contact between them would only cause him more pain, because if he kept talking to Yifan, he would never get over him. Some people could make long-distance work, but Junmyeon knew that he was not cut out for such a thing. Besides, the circumstances just didn’t fit. He was about to be crowned king of a corporation, and Yifan was opening the first of many chain businesses in his new location. Neither of them would have time to visit each other. Junmyeon wouldn’t be able to handle the desire, the want, the _need_ of having Yifan close to him. Text messages and the occasional phone call just wouldn’t be good enough.

And after too many days of breaking down in Minseok’s arms within his office, turning into a blubbering mess as he watched the café transform into something new, and struggling to get over the man he had fallen head over heels for, he knew he needed to let go.

Sixteen days passed. Junmyeon counted every one with pinpoint precision, marking them with chunky marker on his desk calendar. The leaves began to break off of the trees lining the streets below, dark and crunchy as they littered the cement. He could remember finally speaking to Yifan on a day just like this one, full of crisp autumn winds and scattered leaves and finally hearing Yifan’s voice as he treated him to a new cup of coffee after the previous one had been splashed all over his shirt.

As he stared out the window of his office, pausing in typing his reports, he could still hear the sound of Yifan’s laughter mingled in with the echoes of the wind outside.

It was driving him insane. He couldn’t take it, couldn’t handle this much pressure anymore, couldn’t keep struggling to remain above water as he flailed around trying not to drown. He pulled open the top drawer of his desk, getting out his phone. Yifan still cared too much, even after all of this. Junmyeon had never, not once, replied to his texts since he had flown out of the city. There was an entire chain of them, and every single one broke his heart into smaller and smaller pieces.

_“You would like it here. The water is so clear.”_

_“We opened today. It feels weird, not seeing you in the shop.”_

_“I miss you.”_

_“Junmyeon, please text me back. Please don’t be angry with me.”_

_“Do you really hate me that much now?”_

_“Do you still love me?”_

That was possibly what destroyed him the most, because he knew that yes, he _did_ still love Yifan. He loved him, and circumstances forced them to be apart. Perhaps if he was more patient or a stronger human being, he could stomach it, but he was Kim Junmyeon, built upon masks and façades. He couldn’t take it, and the reality was a rough backhand across the cheek.

 _“I’m sorry, Yifan. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t,”_ Junmyeon’s thumbs wrote slowly, trembling, but not nearly as wobbly as his lower lip. _“It hurts too much.”_

It was the first and last response. He didn’t give Yifan time to reply. The weight was heavy on his shoulders and tears dripped down his cheeks as Junmyeon selected the entire chain of texts, hesitating for only one moment before forcing himself to delete them. The settings came next, opened clumsily, and Junmyeon found himself staring at the currently blank list of blocked numbers.

It was blank for only a moment.

He deleted Yifan’s profile from his contact list after that. He should have felt relieved at the very least, but he only felt more miserable, knowing he was running away from what his heart really wanted. He threw his phone back into his desk and slammed the drawer shut, his voice breaking off into a weak sob as he tilted his head back, pathetically trying not to cry anymore.

Outside his window, the last leaf on the old oak tree fell silently to the ground.

**

He had been tired for a very long time. Junmyeon had lost track of how long he had felt this way; it had been years now, he was certain of that. He was barely over the age of thirty and it was as if all the joints and muscles in his torso always ached from the weight of stress pressing down upon him. Junmyeon had always prided himself in his appearance, pale but glowing skin that had now turned blotchy, soft locks of dark hair that occasionally had the small shock of a few white hairs that he quickly plucked out.

It had been three years since Junmyeon became CEO.

And three years since he had his heart broken.

But that was in the past now, wasn’t it? Junmyeon tried not to dwell on it too hard; he didn’t want to keep on torturing himself by thinking about the person that had stepped out of his life. Still, at the end of the day, Junmyeon had to admit that he still missed him. Yifan vanishing out of his life without a trace had hurt him immensely to begin with, but it was as if once Yifan left, the color in Junmyeon’s surroundings was sucked out, leaving him in a hazy fog of grays and blacks and whites and nothing more. Even though he tried to deny it, and tried to fight it, Yifan did wind up stealing a good chunk of his happiness away when he left.

Junmyeon wanted so badly to hate him for it, but he just couldn’t.

There had been few changes in Junmyeon’s life since Yifan had left. He had tried to date, multiple times, after their breakup. And yet, it was as if no matter who he tried to date, he never felt as happy or excited around them as he did compared to when he was with Yifan.

He couldn’t kiss someone else without tasting Yifan’s lips.

But aside from his personal problems that never seemed to fade, the corporation was doing quite well in Junmyeon’s hands. Profits grew exponentially. Their market expanded. Junmyeon found himself in complete and utter control of the plans for growth, calling the shots as to where he wanted their new businesses to be built and offering his input when the list of potential cities was offered to him.

Although Junmyeon had never expected it, income on the western portion of the country was much higher than the profits his company had made in the eastern quadrant. In fact, as the years trickled away, with some consultation from his staff, Junmyeon and his colleagues made the decision to change the location of headquarters to their west coast location, settled in a meager fifty miles from the beach.

Junmyeon was picky with his staff. He hadn’t wanted to leave Minseok behind, and after baiting him with a raise and a holiday bonus, Minseok had no complaints about relocating for work, which was highly relieving for Junmyeon. He and Minseok had gone through too much together and knew too much about one another to lose each other to distance.

Just like someone else he knew.

“So, I have you down for a teleconference at noon,” Minseok began, peering over the rims of his glasses as he read the list of the day’s events out loud for Junmyeon. “The department luncheon has been postponed until tomorrow, so your early afternoon block is free. I don’t have anything else listed until three.”

Junmyeon hummed, settling back in his chair. “Do you have anything going on this afternoon?”

“Not that I know of,” Minseok replied, tilting his head a little to one side in puzzlement. “Why, did you need me to do something urgent for you?”

“Well, I’m not sure if lunch is considered urgent or not, but I would like to extend the offer to you anyway,” Junmyeon joked, cracking a smile. “I’m starving and I need to get out of here for some fresh air. I swear, the fumes from this new leather chair are going to wind up suffocating me.”

Minseok laughed, nodding. “Sure, I’d love to. Let me get my jacket.”

The pair wandered downstairs via the elevator, stepping outside and into the crisp afternoon air. It was still something Junmyeon was trying to get used to; the air was saltier as it blew inward from over the ocean, and the temperature felt different from what he had grown up with on the east coast.

Lunch with Minseok was a rare but always enjoyable occurrence. They walked a few blocks down to a busy little seafood restaurant, settling in at a table near the back. They talked, cracking jokes every now and again and just enjoying the view of the view of the ocean they could see from the window.

On the walk back to the office, they had stopped by a small shop, colored a soothing shade of blue and crème. The air was a bit chilly, just enough for a jacket, so neither of them wanted ice cream, but something sweet did sound quite excellent. Junmyeon was hoping the sugar would keep him active long enough to power through his work for the remainder of the day, so long as he didn’t crash once his blood sugar levels went out of whack.

He and Minseok were huddled against one of the glass displays, softly but eagerly discussing what flavor of fudge they should buy that would be perfect to share, as the block was a little too big for them to each individually.

There was a voice, deep and smooth, that spoke to them. “Excuse me, is there anything I can get for either of you?”

With his index finger pressed against the glass, pointing at a block of cherry and chocolate swirled fudge, Junmyeon picked his head up to speak. “Oh, actually, how much is—“

And the world came to a skidding halt as he stared at the man behind the counter, because he would be able to recognize that face anywhere.

Yifan.

Junmyeon couldn’t speak, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, all of his memories coming crashing down upon him at once. The pair just stood there for a moment, staring at one another. He could have sworn Yifan was a little taller than he used to be. His dark hair was gone, a bit longer, dyed a rich golden shade of blond. And yet, his clothing still looked the same, adorned in a rather snug button-up with three-quarter length sleeves.

Minseok spoke up then, realizing what was happening, and noticing that Junmyeon wasn’t going to speak up, frozen in time. “How much is this one?”

As Minseok and Yifan chatted about the chocolates, Junmyeon tried to will the memories away from his mind, slowly coming back down and into reality. Minseok tried to pay, but Junmyeon shooed him away, standing at the register under Yifan’s gaze, eyes just as sharp as they used to be.

While Junmyeon worked on extracting his credit card from his wallet, Yifan spoke up, voice softly, sympathetic. “You look…different.”

“I’m tired,” Junmyeon muttered, not making eye contact with Yifan as he swiped his card. He knew he must have looked a mess. His wrinkled shirt, his bloodshot eyes, his dark circles, his blotchy face, the few gray hairs he hadn’t bothered yanking out just yet. “Just tired.”

“Junmyeon,” Yifan whispered, barely heard over the crinkling of the paper bag as he packed Junmyeon’s order, “you’re the one who used to tell me that you can’t carry all the weight on your own.”

“And you’re the one who promised to stay,” Junmyeon replied coldly, a knot swelling within his throat. Yifan bit his lip, a mixture of emotions swirling around in his eyes. “Don’t try to act worried now, when you’re the one who left.”

Without another word, Junmyeon took the bag, and with Minseok at his side, he walked out.

The journey back to the building was long and silent. He could feel Minseok’s worried gaze upon him as he trudged back into his office, noisily closing the door behind himself. He dug around in his pants pocket to take out his receipt so that he wouldn’t accidentally throw it into the washing machine when he did his clothes later, and he was about to crumple it up to throw it away when he noticed a familiar line of messy handwriting on the back.

‘ _Stop by when you’re off work. I want to talk to you. Please.’_

He couldn’t force himself to throw the note away.

**

The sun was beginning to set when Junmyeon stepped out of the office. The walk to the little shop felt endless, and Junmyeon’s heart was thudding painfully in his ribcage with every footstep. He didn’t know why he was stopping by again. He should have known better. Yifan had broken his heart once and he shouldn’t dare stop by to give Yifan another chance to wreck him once again.

But the heart wants what the heart wants, and as dusk finally fell, Junmyeon arrived at the shop.

It was empty, just prior to closing. Through the window, Junmyeon could see the employees cleaning up after a long day. But imagine his luck, because out front with a watering can, taking care of the bunches of flowers he had growing outside of the store, was Yifan.

Upon noticing Junmyeon’s presence behind him, Yifan turned on his heel, unable to stop the surprise from showing up on his face.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Yifan then commented, setting the watering can down on the sidewalk.

“I shouldn’t have,” Junmyeon replied, a little too bitterly, feeling the anger and betrayal threatening to bubble up in his chest.

“Junmyeon… You’re _still_ upset with me? I meet you again by sheer chance and this is how you want to act?” Yifan began, biting at his lower lip. “I told you I was sorry. I had to do what I had to do. You know that. Why are you being so selfish?”

“I’m not being selfish,” Junmyeon snapped, already choking as his throat began to close up on him. “It wasn’t about you leaving, it was that you hurt me while you did it.”

“I offered to stay with you. I wanted to make this long-distance. _You’re_ the one who didn’t want that,” Yifan said calmly. “What other choice did I have, Junmyeon? You’re not the only one who was hurting at that time, do you not understand that? I tried to keep in contact with you, despite how you reacted when I told you the news, and then you blocked my number. You were so caught up in your pain you didn’t realize you were hurting me too, you know.”

Junmyeon paused at that, throat bobbing as he struggled to hold back his tears, watching Yifan as the man heaved a loud sigh.

“I just wanted to talk to you, Junmyeon. I’m sorry. I’m still sorry. I still hate that you threw away everything we had just because it was going to be across the country,” Yifan murmured.

“You know me plenty well. What do you want me to say, Yifan? I’m weak, I’m a coward,” Junmyeon spat, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks, “I loved you so damn _much_ and I was scared, alright? I couldn’t h-handle it, it felt like losing you. You j-just—You hurt me so _bad—“_

It all came rushing back to him then, nothing but flashbacks of crying that day in the restaurant and sobbing as Yifan left for his flight, losing himself as he blocked Yifan’s number because he just couldn’t handle the pain anymore of losing him across the country. Not much had changed since then, because there he was, a few years older and still crying over Yifan as if it was yesterday.

But this time, instead of crying alone in his room beneath a mountain of covers, there was someone else around, and Junmyeon jerked, startled, as a few fingers curled beneath his chin to pick his head up.

“You shouldn’t cry like this. You already look rough,” Yifan commented softly, wiping one large thumb across the apple of Junmyeon’s cheek to brush away his tears the best he could, just like during days long gone. “And your eyes are already bloodshot.”

The small kiss Yifan placed on the corner of his mouth was sudden and he knew that it was meant to be a sign of comfort, but all it did was make Junmyeon cry even harder, drowning in a wave of agony that came crashing over him as he remembered what he had lost and remembered the pure crippling _heartbreak_ that he had experienced.

And yet, when Yifan’s arms caged around him, dragging him right back in, Junmyeon didn’t have the guts nor the heart to shove him away.

After all, Yifan’s arms, then and now, always felt like home.


End file.
